


clean

by tylersfloral



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Abuse, Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - No Band, Child Abuse, Dermatillomania, Dermatophagia, Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Past Child Abuse, Self-Harm, alternative universe, kinda weird?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2018-11-15 23:21:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11241384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tylersfloral/pseuds/tylersfloral
Summary: They just wanna be clean.//in which Josh and Tyler are neighbors with habits they need to improve on.





	1. background

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by other fics btw!!! I read one about dermatillomania (Marks on My Skin /mean something to me/ by franticatlantic). The "getting clean" part of the fic was derived from an eating disorder fic (talking /just to breathe/ by agenderhurley) that I only read the summary of.
> 
> Also!! This one is obviously short but this is only a short background on their tendencies to do those things which is why it's very brief.

Tyler likes to eat his own skin.

It's not as bad as it sounds. Many people do it. Dermatophagia. It's usually found in cases of nail biting, but Tyler needs his nails too much to so carelessly waste them on biting them away.

He picks his skin, too. Many people have that as well. Dermatillomania.

Tyler picks his skin and eats it. He picks his lips and eats the dry skin he removes from the supple area. He picks the area around his fingernails and eats that, too.

He chews his arm when he's nervous and tries to hide it around other people.

He's ok, though.

He's done it since he was young. He was fourteen when he began chewing his arm and he was 9 when when he began picking. It's not as bad as other people's, but it was not ideal. Tyler was managing.

Tyler isn't sure when the eating part of ripping his skin off began, but he's pretty sure it was just an impulse.

His lips are often times frail and it hurt to smile due to how his lips were almost always chapped. (Tyler likes it this way. It makes it easier for dry skin to arise.)

Tyler picks the skin around his fingernails and it often times amounts in blood. His friends get queasy from it. He just smiles, and squeezes the affected finger so the blood blossoms into a river. He licks that up, too. It hurts when it's healing, but the scabs always go away. Tyler's fingertips are callous now, due to the picking. He continues anyway.

It's hard to hide in front of others. He flicks the skin away when it's from his hands, even though he wishes it were between his teeth instead, but still eats it if it were from his lips. It was less noticeable, that way. But that only happened when he was hanging out with his friends, or if he feels like he's being watched.

When Tyler chews at a new areas of his skin, it usually turns into an odd lump that is lightly colored red, with a darker middle, imitating a hickey. It doesn't hurt him as much as it would be expected, though. There's a light pinching pain and it does leave a bruise, but it doesn't hurt when he's chewing at his skin like he's a cannibal. It's more likely he does it in the comfort of his own home, when nobody's watching. But when he's out in public, he can only chew his hands or knuckles, and when he's not doing it, he can't stop thinking about it. Or resist bending his lips and picking at them.

When he's chewing, it relaxes him. It's usually on the wrist area and he doesn't know how to stop. Tyler usually continues on that specific spot until he feels satisfied, and it helps him think. It helps him. It helps.

Tyler likes to eat himself.

Tyler is just getting clean.

_

Josh likes to regress. He doesn't know he's doing it half the time, but it clears his mind. Most people call it little space. He calls it letting go.

When he's in little space, he sits for hours, watching Tom & Jerry and Finding Nemo. He colors, he sucks his thumb, he talks with a small voice. He pretends that nothing is real. He pretends that he is still 4, and sometimes he's 5, and sometimes he's 8.

Josh doesn't know he does it. He lives alone, so that's ok, but sometimes he cuts his finger making a sandwich and he cries, and he cries, and there's no one there to help him out. Because he lives alone.

Sometimes, he needs to snap out of his regression. The only problem is, he doesn't know how to, and it's left up to his mind to figure out how to do it on his own. Josh has only realized a few times that he was doing things he wouldn't usually do. One time he was sucking his thumb and he just snapped out of it due to a phone call, and he dazedly answered with a saliva covered hand. Another time he bumped his knee on the coffee table and he started sobbing hysterically, only to snap out of it when the TV started playing How I Met Your Mother instead of Wonder Pets.

It's hard for Josh. He hardly knows what's going on and he loses hours of time. The only reason why he still has his job is because his friend manages the Guitar Center he works at and knows Josh has a hard time.

And then, he snaps out of it. And he's back to normal, 23 year old Josh with a job at Guitar Center and a requirement of taking two medications every day. Sometimes three, though, because the vistaril was highly addictive and it's prescribed take when needed and the doctor told him specifically it's for when it's especially bad.

Besides, his antidepressants help with anxiety, too.

(And he also takes Allegra for his allergies.)

But when Josh regresses in the mornings, he forgets his medications, and the childlike mind makes him forget about his mental health, and everything else that happened to him.

Josh feels clean.


	2. there's no sunshine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still short? What's new? And late??? I'm a joke tbh

Tyler stares at himself in the mirror. Pink lips chapped with blood caked on the especially picked-at parts, some areas lightly pink with skin showing. No scabs apparent - not on the ones that are newer; less peeled at. His eyes travel down his arms, and seeing a purple patch on his wrist makes him bring the appendage up to his face. Dark purple-black. A line of red where his teeth sank into hours before. A thick band of lighter bruising sitting on his outer wrist. He thinks it looks grotesquely pretty.

It's eleven o'clock and he needs to leave for work soon. His shift starts at one, but he wants to avoid taking the freeway today to the best of his abilities, where the traffic was less apparent and he can drink his orange Fanta with one hand and still steer with the other without much worry of the police catching him. (He thinks that double tasking helps with not picking.)

Tyler realized his problem early on, when the peeling off of skin began stinging instead of just getting rid of dead cells. When blood began staining his tongue and he liked it; and then he began eating the skin that came off, too. Impulse.

The regulations at his work, The Body Shop, require all black attire with a green apron that has their brand logo on it. He likes and dislikes it at times, but despite that, he still works their. It's full of hipsters, he knows, but he got this job through a friend, and he didn't want to go through the hassle of finding a different one. Tyler doesn't mind, though, because it's not as popular as a Lush or Starbucks, so there's never really any rush hours to worry about. Maybe a line of three to four people at points, but that's nothing to worry about.

Tyler stares in the mirror a minute longer; looking at the state he's in. He hasn't washed his hair in three days, and despite the amount of dry shampoo he applies, it still doesn't completely cover the ever coming grease. His wrists look like he's been shackled or tied up, and adding with his lips that look busted, it may have passed as an eighties drug lord mishap.

He wears sleeves and jeans today.

In the car, he's doing exactly as he wanted to. Drinking Fanta with one hand and steering with the other. It's nice. It's relaxing, being ahead of schedule for once. He's driving, enjoying the dry scenery of North Las Vegas using anything but the freeway (majority-wise) to get to Fashion Show Mall, where he works as a sales associate at The Body Shop for $9.44 an hour.

It's not the best salary, but it's not as bad as others. Slightly above minimum wage in Vegas is always a better alternative, and it's not like there's anything better he can get. He doesn't have much experience and he can't take a job that was food related, because it's a hassle to start at square one again anyway. 

_

As expected, it was a slow day. Few customers came in, probably twenty to thirty throughout the whole day, and a third of them came in just to sample stuff. Tyler didn't mind like some of his coworkers did, though, because he does the same. Tuesday's were always like that for the shop, and when he gets home, he's tired and just wants to shower and sleep.

He's walking in the hall to the door of his apartment - 2018 - when he bumps into his neighbor. Josh Dun, resident in the room right beside his in 2020, who had bright yellow hair and a habit of bumping into his neighbors while walking.

"Hey, Josh." Tyler greets, heat sticking to the back of his neck. His face looks drained and a bit sun kissed from being outside in the heat.

"Hi, I didn't mean to bump into you. . . Sowwy." Josh mumbles back. He's wearing a pair of pajama pants and a hoodie two sizes too big. It was white, and had Hello Kitty on it. The neon haired boy waves his hand a little too, and Tyler swears he sees a web of spit and a slick thumb move side to side.

"It's no problem," Tyler responds as he cocks his brow at the other's behavior, but chooses not to ask about it. Invasive. That's the last thing he wants to be.

Either way, Tyler still stares at Josh as he enters his own unlocked apartment, up until he hears the locks turn before he goes into his own.

The brown haired boy can't help but wonder what was wrong with his neighbor as he entered his house, hearing some sort of kid's show through the too-thin walls. It ate at his curiosity, but he was too nervous to ask, so he stayed put.

The neighbors have only had a handful of times in which they can across each other. The first time was when they moved in on the same day. They greeted each other and helped one another out; even went to lunch a couple times while the process was still in heavy motion. But, as work came clashing with everything, it did come to an end and they haven't found time to reschedule since the last rain check. Maybe someday.

The other times were obviously in the hallways, where Josh and Tyler would bump into each other or say hi in passing. All small stuff that other neighbors do.

Josh Dun always seemed like an enigma to Tyler. He always seems to be home, and you can occasionally over-hear kids shows from the apartment. It seems like his hair is overly-dyed, but how would he pay for the dye if he doesn't go to his job?

Tyler sighs and ignores his ever ending questions, sitting at his couch to turn on the tv. The brown haired boy just wished he could have gotten closer to Josh when they first moved in, not letting time get to them to end into lost time. He also wishes the walls were thicker, because it was so thin he could hear too much from the place.

Today, Tyler swears he can hear crying.


	3. hold me close

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had this written since yesterday but didn't bother to grab my macbook so ya ly all and thanks for reading!!! didn't really proof read also so there's that. lemme know if there's anything wrong

Josh hasn't been in little space for a couple days. He's happy about it, because at least he remembers everything clearly and doesn't not know how nine o'clock eating cereal turned into coloring at three pm with Caillou on. Josh likes the knowledge, likes being aware. Though, he feels tense, and he hasn't decided if it's worth not blacking out and regressing.

The fact that he just needs to be monitored while in little space makes him almost desperate enough to post an ad on Craigslist. It seems like a good idea; putting himself out there and it sounds so thrilling but he can't. There are thoughts of people coming to kill him, or doing other things that he didn't sign up for. So, he doesn't, and that's that. He wishes that he trusted other sort of "arrangement" sites, where he could have a Caretaker or a Daddy or something, just to ensure his welfare. He's looked into it, but the cost is more expensive than his rent, and he doesn't wanna do sexual favors for them in an alternative situation. It's not a huge loss, anyway, because the fact that some people may want to take advantage during his time of weakness is another thing he would have to worry about.

Josh found out he began regressing about three years ago, when one of his closest friends watched him during the time. It all began with said friend just staying over the night, and then she brought up abuse, and he forgot what happened for the next twelve hours. Thankfully, Ashley knows a lot about those types of things, so she knew what was happening when Josh turned into an 8 year old boy with a slight lisp and a love for Disney Channel.

The minute he came back, Ashley cooked for him. While eating some teriyaki chicken and fried rice, she brought up the news slowly. Talked about different kinks, about different things that made people feel happier in a healthy way. And that's how she told him about his regressing.

Josh was only slightly confused about it, because his initial idea around the whole thing was that they were conscious and aware that they regressed. Not like how he was blacked out. Not that he noticed that he's been starting to lose minutes of time, previously, starting weeks before that event. That was the first time he regressed for more than three hours.

And now, he can fully function in little space for days at a time. Oh, how time flies.

-

 

A knock on the door echoes throughout the apartment 2020 at 6 pm. Josh stood in his kitchen, staring at the microwave that held his TV dinner. He wasn't sure what to expect, abandoning the circling meal to go and answer the door.

The last person he thought to see was a Tyler Joseph. He was staring at the ground before the door whooshed open, to which he perked up at the sound with shiny eyes and a smile.

"Hey, Josh! I've been meaning to talk to you for the past couple days. May I come in?" Tyler bounced a little on the balls of his feet as he spoke. His hair was a messy bed of brown locks and it all seemed so tempting to just touch it, Josh thinks to himself.

"Of course," he opened the door wider and stepped aside, and Tyler removed his shoes and left them by the door where the rest of them were at. He went to the blue couch in the living room, making himself comfortable for a moment before settling down. Josh sat across on the single seat diagonally from him, feeling as if it were important to be at a different angle to see him better.

"I, uh, I know we haven't talked but I wanted to check in on you, I guess?" Tyler became a bit nervous to be back in the home of a man he hasn't properly spoken to in awhile, but knows that this wasn't weird. It wasn't weird.

"What about, exactly?" Josh questions, smiling softly. No one checks on him. Well, usually not in person, anyway.

"Just, you know, about things. We haven't found time to reschedule our last lunch I had to cancel on. Totally my fault," Tyler responds.

"Oh, it's ok. I haven't found time either. But yeah, things are good. I'm still working at Guitar Center, but it blows. I caught this kid trying to steal guitar picks today. There are ones for a dollar and he still tries to steal them. I get that not everyone's fortunate, but that's why they're so cheap."

Tyler tosses his head back in a laugh, eyes crinkling and his crooked teeth showing in the smile he still wore after he stopped laughing.

"That's hilarious! What did you do to the kid?"

"What can you do? It's guitar picks, I don't wanna be that guy that calls the parents over it, but I can't just watch him do that without saying anything. I just told him to give it back and checked him for other stuff he may have stole and sent him packing."

The night wore on as they continued to talk, and Josh forgot about the lasagna TV dinner sitting in the microwave until it was 9:30 pm, when he was showing Tyler out.

Josh opened the door and stepped aside to let the younger boy through. "It was really great having you over tonight! I really missed talking to you, and don't forget about our lunch on Saturday," Josh says, almost going into hug Tyler. He goes for a handshake instead, and hopes Tyler didn't see his slight hesitation beforehand.

"Wouldn't forget it for the world. And Josh?" The yellow haired boy nods and Tyler smiles gently before continuing, "If you ever need anything at all, I'm right next door, okay? Don't hesitate to come by." Tyler seems to hesitate for a moment before moving in to hug Josh.

"Thank you," Josh whispers to Tyler, and then he's leaving and the other boy shuts and locks the door. His stomach grumbles, and that's when he realizes his dinner is cold.

 

-

It's six pm on Friday night when Josh and Tyler's paths intercross again.

Josh was extremely upset. The added stresses of him forcing himself not to regress made him more sensitive than he usually is, which caused him to have a shorter temper than normal. He comes home from work, fuming.

It's not that it was that bad of a day. There's always customers who are gonna test your patience, but Josh couldn't help but be mad about the guy who kept talking to his friend, saying words they assumed Josh didn't hear. (All words he doesn't like remembering, because if he does, he gets all bothered again. Needless to say, they weren't nice.) On top of that, an old lady looking for a guitar for her grandson kept saying that he "shouldn't work here, this place is for nice people and you're a punk." Josh only smiled and laughed at the time, but it still bugged him. To top it all off, some teenage guys ran into him right when he clocked out and walked through the door and spilled a blue slushee all over his front. They laughed and didn't apologize. Josh flipped them off.

But luckily, he had an extra shirt in his car for emergencies, and most of the blue drink landed on his upper half.

When Josh drove home, he was hit with a bunch of red lights and asshole drivers. It made him hysterically angry. He couldn't tell if he was on the verge of tears, or teetering on the edge of completely exploding.

But that didn't come until he came home.

Josh quickly removes his shirt and then begins to pace around the room right when he came in, up until he decided to turn on the light. What he expected was the room to become brighter, not a stagnant reaction. He turned to look at the switch, flicking it on and off multiple times, to no avail. He went to a different switch and tried that one. Nothing.

It starts off slow. His eyes begin to water and he feels his bottom lips tremble. He breathes in and out. He shuts his eyes. And then, all at once, a loud sob rises from his chest, and tears are pouring past like there's no tomorrow. He forgot to pay his electricity bill.

Tears are rolling fast past his face and he feels himself growing warmer and warmer, sobs wracking through his body, and he feels himself slipping. But then, his arm comes up.

And Josh punches the wall in front of him. Hard.

Which leads to now, where the said man stands in front of the apartment 2018, after just knocking on the door. His hand throbs and he feels more warm liquid dribble from his hand. The door swings open, and it's a moment of Josh and Tyler gazing at each other silently. Then, Tyler's eyes travel down and he jumps a little at the sight of the bleeding hand, cradled in Josh's arm.

"Hey, uh, can you help me? I think I'm bleeding." Josh held his hand to his chest to ensure a comfort that wasn't there, and to make sure blood wouldn't drip to the carpets of the apartment halls. Tyler was surprised, probably at the fact his neighbor he's only acquainted with shows up out of nowhere with a bloody fist and no shirt on. But surprise turns into concern, and he quickly ushers in the elder boy into his place. Josh is still sniffling as he's walking into Tyler's place.

"Of course you're bleeding, Josh. I heard something thud from your place and - not to be invasive and presumptuous - but, I know what a punch to the wall sounds like and your hand is bloody. Jeez, man. How bad does it hurt?"

"Not too bad. Dull throb, but I'm mostly concerned about the bleeding? I think I put a hole in the wall," the large gash seemed to recall the event and gushed up more blood. The smell of metal made Tyler dizzy and he had to lean away for a second to get a fresh breath.

"Do I have to go the hospital?" He questioned. His heart races at the thought of going, but he also didn't want to bleed out from a stupid mistake he made out of anger.

"Let's clean it up first and see what we have to do from there. I - I think we will be fine, but I'll check it first," Tyler responded. He guided Josh to a chair at his dining room table and leaves for a moment, holding up one single finger in a "I'll be right back" implication. This is when Josh begins to look around the place. It's basically Josh's, but with different decorations. Everything was clean and urban looking, and the air smelt of laundry detergent and some light, fresh cologne. It suited Tyler.

The padding of quickened footsteps makes Josh turn to see Tyler arrive back with a box of presumably medical stuff. He opens it quickly and sets out all the stuff in the box.

"Ok, so this is wound cleanser - it's just saline solution. I've got some hydrogen peroxide, antibiotics, wound closures, gauze, butterfly closure-type band aids, cotton balls, medical tape, and some waterproof clear band aids, too."

"That's a lot of stuff. Thank you for helping me."

"No problem." Tyler then began to tend to Josh's wound. He uses the wound cleanser and first sprays it all around the area and wipes at the places on Josh's hand that got blood on it. He uses a cotton ball to gently dab at the wound itself, practically holding his breath before letting out a sigh of relief.

"It's pretty shallow, just wide. And very gushy. No hospital." Josh feels relieved, but the blood made him feel woozy just looking at it, so he shut his eyes and nodded.

Tyler takes out the hydrogen peroxide and pours some onto a clean cotton ball. "This is gonna hurt," is all he says before he presses down lightly but firmly on the wound. Several times he dabs at it, cleaning it thoroughly. Josh is biting his lip at the tingling pain and stares at the fizzling bubbles to get his mind off of it. The other man hums as he squeezes ointment on the wound, and then patches it all up with a gauze pad and medical tape. He pats it lightly.

"Ok, that should work. How's it feel?"

"Like bandages." He jokes, and his hand feels kinda like a searing pain was coursing through it, but he doesn't say so.

"Come by tomorrow for me to put on a new set of bandages. Gotta keep it clean." Josh nods.

They stare at each other.

"Why did you punch the wall?" Josh shakes his head at the question. Tyler understands.


	4. fireworks and palm trees almost look alike

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gay and haven't updated in awhile here's a filler ily guys

Tyler has a dream that he's falling.

This dream wasn't that simple, though. He's having fun and he's running and all his favorite people are surrounding him and he's laughing. And he is running. That's how the dream started and they were always ending peaceful, up until senior year where things started to get bad. The smiling faces turned into blurs and their voices are muted and almost demonic and he starts to fall - he doesn't know how or why. He starts to fall and fall and fall and he's passing the bad memories he's had, practically every single one.

It makes him wake up - he's sweating and it's four in the morning but he's panting and Tyler knows now that he won't fall back asleep. It's Saturday morning, and in about eight to nine hours, he'll be having lunch with Josh Dun.

Tyler gets up. Usual face routine. His lips are swollen and sensitive from picking. Scabs on finger tips. Bruises on wrists. He's ok.

Morning time was not the best for Tyler to begin eating. His mind tells him no, so he abides, and it's caused his stomach to shrink a little. It made it harder for him to eat the usual quantities he used to, so he usually chugged some water and called it a day.

It's eight am when Tyler hears a knocking on his door. He already assumes it's Josh, so it comes to no surprise he opens the door to a yellow haired boy dressed in black shorts and an adidas shirt.

"Wanna leave now?" They stare at each other for a moment before Tyler nods, ushering Josh inside.

"Let me get dressed first."

 

-

They ride in Josh's pathfinder; something he'd received once he graduated high school already with a degree. It was given second hand from his aunt who kept it in great condition; paid off and everything.

"Is IHOP ok or do you wanna go somewhere else?" Josh questions, turning his blinker on to turn right. Tyler contemplates for a minute, despite knowing he wanted IHOP.

"That's perfect, actually. It's right down the street, too." Josh nods at Tyler, taking the route to the IHOP in the centennial center five minutes from their apartments.

The small restaurant isn't too busy, surprisingly. It was mainly inhabited by elderly people, fitting in IHOP into their morning routines.

"Table for two, please."

 

-

The rescheduled lunch - no - breakfast, was a success, needless to say. They talked for hours; having only left the restaurant at 10:30 am full of crepes, pancakes, and other popular commodities they ordered.

Though, their rendezvous wasn't going to be ending soon, as Josh accidentally took the exit for the freeway.

"Son of a fuck." Josh says, causing Tyler to burst into laughter. Despite his words, Josh is grinning himself, mocha colored eyes crinkling at the sides. He looks so pretty, Tyler thinks.

The thing about Tyler is that he gets too attached. That's part of the reason why he couldn't find it in him to reschedule before.

"Aside from me being a total idiot and taking the freeway, how's your day been so far?" Josh questions, lightening the air from its tightening silence.

"Great, actually. Had this weird recurring dream, which was why I was up as early as you," Tyler explains. He immediately regrets his decision, only now realizing he felt himself loosen up and want to say more. He hates himself for it.

"Do you wanna talk about the dream?"

"Nah, it's dumb. Just a dumb old dream, you know?" Josh takes the exit to get off 95 as Tyler silently scolds himself, awkwardly laughing it off.

"I'm sure it's not dumb, but I won't press it. Was everything okay today? Like to hang out and everything?"

"Of course, why wouldn't it be?"

"I just don't want to make you uncomfortable in any way. It's okay if you don't want to be friends or anything. I wouldn't mind it - well, I would, but I don't wanna force you into being my friend. I'm sure you've noticed I'm kind of a recluse, for lack of better terms." Josh rambles. Tyler nods and smiles toothily.

"No, of course I wanna be your friend! Thank you for your concern though. Never think that I don't wanna be your friend unless you're like, a pedophile, or something equally as bad as that."

Josh shakes his head. "I'm nothing terrible like that. God, I'd beat the living shit out of anyone like that."

"Then I guess we're friends."

They soon pull up to the apartment complex and both get out of the car, walking up to the main lobby and going up to level 2, where the 2000's level was. Their hands brush occasionally, but neither one move to stop the small action. They both stop in front of their own doors.

"Well, today was great. I'll see you later?" Josh says, putting his arms out. Tyler walks up to return the hug and nods.

"Yeah."


End file.
